


Beautiful Stranger

by Ulchabhan



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Bisexuality, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29728173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulchabhan/pseuds/Ulchabhan
Summary: I think many of us bi (and non-bi) readers feel that Harry would make a plausible bisexual. Well, in this fic, he Figures Some S*** Out. In trying to escape Lara at a White Court orgy, he encounters an unusual guy who asks for his help...Warnings: background non-con (White Court stuff), references to suicide attempt, references to grief.Set after Battle Ground.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	Beautiful Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> So, I like M/M fics involving Harry, but a lot of them glide over Harry realising he likes dudes. I was trying to think of a character that Harry could plausibly explore his bisexuality with. He'd have enough hang-ups about Marcone even if he wasn't a dude, his relationship with Carlos is pretty complicated at this point... And I realised a bi OC from my own novels would be perfect for the job. No complicated history, just boom: hot bi guy needs your help. Your move, Harry.

“Harry,” Lara purred, her eyes nearly white, “you don’t have to just watch, you know.”

I blinked, breaking myself out of my trance at the way her body undulated. “I know,” I ground out. “I just... I've been making small-talk at an orgy for the past hour. I gotta get some air, okay?”

And I fled. Before she could forget about the poor sap beneath her and turn the whammy on me.

Because I had no protection from it now. _Stupid, stupid idiot._ I'd thought maybe the love Elaine and I had once shared would be enough. She’d been warm, and alive, and _human_. But there was no fooling a vampire. We weren’t in love, not anymore. And I had ruined Murphy’s final gift to me. Her last act of protection. I wanted to cry.

Instead, I fled until I found a side room that was mercifully empty. It was set up for action – soft couches, drapery and drinks – but most of the vampires seemed happy enough to indulge their appetites in the open in the main hall.

I collapsed onto a couch, grabbed a bottle of tequila and took a burning swig.

What the fuck was I doing here? A guest at a White Court orgy. Feeding frenzy, more like. I knew Lara had instructed her guests not to kill anyone this evening. But I strongly suspected many of the humans in rapture out there would not be getting up and going to work on Monday. They were draining them. Crippling them. And I was the guest of honour. The fiancé of the mistress of fucking ceremonies.

I reflected, with a shocking lance of pain, that this was why I had tried to kill myself. Sure, the whisper of a Fallen had pushed me over the edge. But I’d known where being the Winter Knight would lead. Not exactly, maybe, but the general zipcode. You turn to the dark side, sooner or later you end up at a rape orgy.

But God, what was I supposed to do? Off myself again? Leave Maggie an orphan, my brother trapped in Demonreach, and my niece or nephew with Nemesis as a mother?

I made a noise that was almost a sob and my head fell into my hands. I felt like I hadn’t seen a good choice in years. Only shit choices for Harry Dresden, the universe had decreed. I lifted my head and drank deeply, self-pityingly, from the tequila bottle. Tequila and self-pity probably had some kind of symbiotic relationship.

The door opened, and I groaned internally. So much for my alone time.

It was a man who entered. Or rather, a vampire. He wore joggers in a shiny white material, and no shirt or shoes. He was blond, unusually for a Raith. Obviously a more distant cousin, like Connie. Or perhaps a member of one of the other houses who had taken a liking to feeding on lust. But he was certainly good-looking enough to be a Raith.

He looked mid-twenties, although that meant nothing with vampires. He had cheekbones sharp enough to cut someone, and narrow, intense, bright blue eyes. His face was slightly long, though not in a way that detracted from his handsomeness. His hair looked artfully mussed as he ran a hand through it, a gesture that reminded me of Thomas.

He was tall and lean, and his torso was perfectly sculpted, though with perhaps a bit more softness around the edges than was usual for male whamps. He had a large and ornate black tattoo of a dragon, half on his back and half on his chest, as if it was crawling over his shoulder. His skin was pale, though again, in a slightly more human, buttermilk kind of way than the silveriness of the White Court.

Still, there was no doubting that that’s what he was. He was too handsome to be anything else, and I had seen him with a victim out there. A lovely young woman, her mouth parted, her eyes all but vacant as he touched her.

He went to pick up a bottle of vodka, and made himself a drink. He was stealing glances at me. I was quite the item of curiosity for the Raiths from out of town. He turned to me, drink in hand. “Harry Dresden?” he asked, voice slightly accented. Northern European, I would have said. I noticed his left eyebrow was pierced, a silver stud in it.

I sighed. “Unfortunately,” I grumbled.

His lips twitched. “Not enjoying yourself?”

I had to be careful here. Lara would kill me if I let it get out that I was miserable. Mab might, too.

But something about this guy made me trust him. I think it’s that he reminded me a little of Thomas. There was a certain sadness or tension in him. A kind of sardonic self-loathing, unless I missed my guess. Maybe this was another vamp who didn’t relish being what he was.

“Not particularly,” I answered.

The small smile again, and the undercurrent of self-criticism was more apparent in this one. “Me neither.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh? You looked like you were having a good time.” That wasn’t entirely fair, I knew. Vampires had no choice but to feed. But still.

He winced. “Yeah. Necessary. Not fun.”

I said nothing. My gut said he was telling the truth, but my gut has been wrong before.

He took a deep breath. “Listen,” he said. “I heard you deal with...weird shit.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah. I'm pretty well-known for that. You looking to hire me?” I asked with a frown.

“...Maybe,” he said, taking a seat on a couch beside mine. “If you'll answer a few questions. I...imagine you might have some for me too.”

“That’s for sure. What’s your name, for a start?”

He was silent for a moment. “Uhm...they think I'm Stefan Raith. I'm not. I'm...well, you can call me Sam.”

My eyebrows had climbed into my hair at this point. Who was this guy? What was going on here? “Sam what?”

“...Korhonen.” The pause was not lost on me.

“Are you White Court?”

He looked up at me, seeming to have no fear of meeting my eyes. I had to look away. “No. I'm not a vampire.”

This was getting more and more unsettling. Some being had infiltrated Lara's home and done a damn good job of pretending to be a vampire. That took power. “Sidhe?”

He shook his head. “My kind don’t exist here. The closest... Uh, that’s not important. Look, I have to ask you some stuff now.”

I had no idea what he meant by the ‘my kind don’t exist here’ comment. But I grudgingly nodded. I needed to figure out what was going on, and I was hoping he'd part with some information if I did.

He simply stared at me for a moment, before eventually asking, “...What are you _doing_ here?”

I blinked. “Uh. I'm Lara Raith’s fiancé. Winter Knight. Surely you know that.”

He grimaced. “Yes. But you hate it here. Watching the vampires feed hurts you. Have you been... _forced_ into this position?”

I didn’t know if this guy was an empath, or if my emotions were just that obvious. “Well, yeah. I sold my life to Winter for power. The Queen decreed we're allying with the White Court, so I get married off.” I shrugged, pretending an acceptance I did not feel.

He continued to stare at me intensely, eyes narrowed, and I was suddenly sure he was an empath. I felt the touch of a mind that was...strange, mildly nauseating. Not evil. Good, I would have said, or something like it. But _wrong_. The energy was so foreign, so alien.

And the feeling and something he had said earlier clicked together. My eyes widened. “ _Outsider_ ,” I breathed.

His eyes widened in turn. “Do you mean...someone not from your universe?”

“What are you?” I snarled. “Nemesis? A Walker?”

He held up his hands, looking sincerely alarmed. “I swear I have no idea what those things are. I'm just lost and I need to get home.”

“ _Lost_ ,” I spat. “How do you lose your way past the Outer Gates?”

‘Sam' growled in frustration, hand clutching at his hair again. “I don’t know! I saw no gates! My friend and I, we were in a fight, and the demon we were fighting did something weird. He tried to make a black hole. My friend’s good with that kind of stuff, and she stopped him. But instead it turned into a…a wormhole or something. Next thing we know, we're crashing out into this universe’s version of Arabia, and everything’s different! Like… _so_ different. We hate it here. Our powers work differently, and the universe is put together differently, and you guys have a really unsettling amount of free will. Your minds are…” His handsome face wrinkled up and it looked like he wanted to gag. “ _Tainted_. Like Original Sin or something. You have good and evil swirling around like some kind of gross cocktail! And I guess they really are good and evil, if you can choose between them. It’s all very… _Biblical_ , and we just want to get home. We don’t belong here.”

I sat there, stunned. I had never heard this kind of story before. An Outsider, but from some other version of Earth. Not a tentacled beast that wanted to destroy our reality. “…I don’t know what to say to you, kid. That sounds like bullshit. Maybe it’s not. But why should I help you? Why risk it?” Nemesis was easily devious enough to think this up as a ploy. He didn’t _feel_ like Nemesis, but still.

He met my eyes again. “Because we heard that’s what you do. ‘Wizard of Chicago’. That you try to help people who need it. People say you had a good reason for ‘selling out’, as they put it. And it’s not like I can throw many stones.” There was that bitterness again; the pained grimace. “I find it really difficult and confusing to read people here, with your actual evil swimming around in your heads, but I think you… I think you’re what passes for a good guy. In a bad situation.”

Well. Difficult to argue that, really. If I was a good guy, still, I was definitely caught up in things I shouldn’t be.

“Also we can pay you whatever you want. As long as you’re not real picky about where we get the money.”

I wasn’t. But I still had no idea if I trusted this guy. I did _not_ want to soulgaze him if I could avoid it. Even the brief touch of his mind had been nauseating. So I nodded slowly. “We can talk. I can try. I have no idea if I'll be able to help or not. Or if I even believe you. But you and your friend can meet me at two tomorrow in a bar called MacAnally's.”

He huffed a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks, man. Really appreciate it. We really need some help.” He relaxed a little and leaned back in the couch, taking a deep drink from his glass.

I studied him. Not a vampire, not a Sidhe. What, I wondered? He was supernaturally attractive and had enough seduction whammy to pass as a vampire. Was that the norm, where he was from? “Are there humans in your world? Like normal humans?”

He nodded. “Yes. I'm not one, obviously. Our kind are built to fight demons.”

I wasn’t sure why that should involve being so pretty. Unless people were just better-looking in their world.

He sighed. “Really don’t want to go back out there. They’ll want me to pretend to _feed_ again, and I hate pheromoning people.” His face wrinkled in distaste again, and that self-loathing bubbled up. Interesting. “I might pretend I'm full. Do White Court vampires get full? Or salmonella? Nothing ruins an orgy like a bad case of food-poisoning.”

I snorted in spite of myself. In fact, I happened to know vampires could get food-poisoning. Thomas had undercooked some chicken once and spent the day lying on the bathroom floor.

This meant that Lara, at some point, must surely also have spent a day shitting her brains out. The thought made me happy.

“You could give it a try,” I said. “It’s only a matter of time until Lara starts taking bites out of me, so I'm keen to hide too.”

He looked at me then, side-eyed, and stretched very ostentatiously. It looked like…something from a Greek legend. Adonis lounging while the goddesses fought over him. “Well,” he said, with a brilliant smile, “there’s no reason we can’t entertain each other.”

I could feel my eyes bugging out. “Uh… Sorry man. You've got that…supernatural attractiveness going for you and all, but I'm straight.”

His features warped into a puzzled frown, and he looked uncertain of what to say. “Uhh… Really? You sure?”

I blinked at him. “Fairly, yeah.”

The puzzled frown remained, and he shook his head, as if debating something with himself. I didn’t like where this was going. I felt a weird sense of panic, for some reason. “It’s just… I mean, maybe it’s not my place to say. But I can tell when humans are attracted to me.” And then he simply looked at me, waiting for me to respond.

My face felt like it was on fire. I was mad at this guy for being so presumptuous. “I… I mean you're attractive. But just because I can see that, doesn’t mean _I'm_ attracted to you.”

He continued to look confused. Maybe he wasn’t used to people not wanting to jump him. He wore the expression of someone working on a difficult math problem. “That’s uh… That’s not it. I had you pegged for bi before I even walked in here.” His lips twitched. “No pun intended. I noticed the way you looked at the male vampires, and some of the…victims.” His lip curled a bit at the word. “And then when I did walk in… Uh… You have a pretty powerful…aura. And the feeling when you were staring at me was…not very mistakeable.” Again he just looked up at me from a head bowed sideways, eyes narrowed.

I spluttered. “I… I mean…” I had always noticed attractive men. Sure. But that was normal… Wasn’t it? It was normal to…to want to stare…

 _Uh-oh_. I was nearly forty years old. This couldn’t be happening. I did not need this on top of everything.

His eyes had widened. “You really didn’t know? Oh man, I'm sorry. Normally…people who I get feelings that strong from are aware of it.”

“… _Shit_ ,” I breathed. I was feeling very foolish, and very overwhelmed, very quickly. Yeah, I had always liked staring. Yeah, certain attractive features stuck in my mind a lot. But I had always thought that I was just…observant. That I sometimes quite enjoyed…being observant.

 _Fuck_. I was a moron. I wondered if even the Guy in Black had confronted this one. I had a feeling he was going to be busy tonight.

A wave of nausea driven by sexual confusion and tequila came over me (again, I guessed those two were frequent buddies), and my face fell into my hands with a groan.

“Hey,” Sam said, sounding a little alarmed. He moved to sit next to me and put his large, warm hand on my back. “Hey, Harry. It’s okay. I promise it’s okay. I know it’s kind of confusing at first.” There was a pause. “Parts of it can stay kind of confusing. But there’s nothing _wrong_ with it. It doesn’t make you less manly or anything. And fuck anyone who says otherwise. Or don’t, actually, cos I bet you’re a good fuck and they don’t deserve it.”

I snorted helplessly between my fingers. In spite of everything, I think I liked this guy. Part of me wanted to explore that thought further, and part of me was terrified to.

Sam rubbed my back, otherwise keeping a respectful distance away from me, while I thought.

I really wanted to talk to someone about this. To have someone validate that it was okay and they wouldn’t be grossed out or see me differently, if it did turn out to be true. But who? Michael... Michael meant well, but he was too religious and...sheltered for me to be comfortable going to him with this. Butters? Butters might be okay with it. He was living an unconventional love life himself at the moment. And he hadn’t held it against me before when he thought I was gay. But still, the thought of the conversation made me want to shrivel up and bury myself in a hole.

Who I really wanted to talk to was Thomas. My brother had seen it all before. And if he accepted me, which I was pretty sure he would, then I wouldn’t care so much what anyone else thought. I really missed him.

“I'm sorry,” said Sam again, quietly, removing his hand. I sort of wished he hadn’t. “I just kind of... Argh, I should have kept my mouth shut. Part of me just thought you should know, I guess. Like it’s always better to know? But it wasn’t my choice.” He paused. “I should know at this point not to push people about these things.” The gravelly, self-loathing note again. I had the feeling I wasn’t the only one with hang-ups related to sex, though they were obviously rather different.

“It’s okay,” I said, and sat up slowly. “You're... It’s right that I should know. I mean, if it’s true, I should know.” I was no coward, after all. I couldn’t spend my life hiding from myself, however oblivious I could be sometimes. I had faced down vampires and demons. I had faced a Titan. Surely I could face the possibility that I might like guys?

Part of me counselled that I should brood on this for a while. Think about it. Turn it over in my head.

But that sounded like agony. I would tie myself in knots, and possibly come to no conclusions. The part of me fuelled by tequila and hormones said there was a much simpler way to test this hypothesis. Not quite believing what I was doing, I turned to Sam and hesitantly took one of his hands in mine. It was very warm, and not far in size from my own, and felt somewhat calloused. The sensation was weird, but not bad. “Sam,” I said. “I need you to kiss me.”

He did not look like he'd been expecting that. “Are you sure? I mean, this is all totally new to you, and I don’t know how much you've drank, and-"

I squeezed his hand in irritation. “You’re the one who’s confused me, damn it. Now help me test it out.”

He stared into my eyes searchingly until I had to look away. His were like blue flame.

Obviously he saw enough resolve there to convince him, cos he moved in and pushed his lips against mine.

I caught my breath, but closed my eyes and tried to hush the part of me that was screaming _But I'm straight!_ into the void. Panicking wouldn’t help, it would just leave me more confused. I used my training to quiet my anxiety and tried to focus on whether or not I actually enjoyed this.

I wasn’t sure. His mouth felt _really_ different, as it moved against mine. I could never have thought I was kissing a woman. It was much firmer, and warmer. All of him was warmer, actually; I could feel the body heat radiating off him. I wasn’t sure how much of that was him being male, and how much of the was him being...whatever he was.

The feel of stubble against my chin was...interesting. Not unwelcome. His tongue probed gently, and I let it in (hushing another wail from the panicking part of me), responding with my own.

It was nice, fine, okay. A little odd. Until his breathing started to pick up a bit, and I felt it hot against my nose. Mine sped up with it. He made a small noise and cupped his hand at the back of my head.

And suddenly it was hot. One of my hands rose to his hair, and the other wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer. His skin was warm and unbelievably smooth. The muscle underneath was so firm.

The kiss deepened, until Sam broke away and moved his lips to my neck, tugging my head sideways. He latched on and sucked gently, not hard enough to leave a mark, laving the skin with his tongue. I might have made a noise, and his hand tightened in my hair for a moment.

He pulled back, and I was regretful for a second until he started undoing my shirt. “You're wearing more clothes than me,” he explained with a smile.

I was aware that Lara could walk in at any moment. Part of me wished she would. It would drive her insane that I'd ‘given in' to some random cousin before her. Though she’d probably just take it out on me by half draining me to death at a later date.

Still, I felt I had to warn Sam. “Sam, if anyone walks in, they may not be happy with you. The White Court frowns on ‘poaching’.”

His hands stopped moving on my buttons, face concerned. “...But you'd be okay?”

I shrugged, uncaring. “Lara’s fucked like a dozen people in front of me. She can’t demand that I'm faithful.”

He smiled then, in a way that was predatory and unsettling. “In that case, don’t worry about me. I can handle the vampires.” I got the impression he'd really like to, too. I wondered again exactly what manner of creature this was.

And then he had my shirt open and his hands were on my body, and I stopped wondering about anything. His lips came back to mine, and as we kissed his hands roamed. Down my back, over my chest. My nipples were squeezed, earning a jump from me. All the way down my spine, making me shiver. And finally over my hips, around to my stomach. The muscles jumped and twitched as his fingers slid over them. The sensations zapped directly to my groin, and my pants grew constrictively tight. I had to stop myself from moaning and thrusting my hips into him.

Okay then. Definitely bisexual. This was a man touching me, and I was enjoying it very much. Hypothesis confirmed.

Holy... Holy fuck. This was not something I expected to find out about myself at thirty-nine years of age. I mean... It wasn’t like I'd never wondered before. I imagined everyone did. Especially when you grew up in homophobic nowhere in the 80s and 90s. But back then I didn’t even know the word bi. So once I had firmly established that I liked girls, I figured I was ‘safe’. I had rationalised away any thoughts about guys, cos a person couldn’t like _both_. You were either gay or you weren’t. And then even by the time I learned there were more options, I was so firmly in the ‘straight’ box that I never considered any others.

I guess, when I thought about it that way, maybe it wasn’t _so_ pathetic that I'd made it to this age apparently unaware of my orientation. Just a little pathetic.

I again had a mini internal debate, as part of me suggested I should withdraw and process this information, and another (no surprise which) snarled at me for even considering it.

For once, for whatever reason, I listened to my dick. Maybe it was because I'd been at an orgy around ridiculously attractive creatures all evening. Maybe it was because I was so damn lonely without Murph, and I'd already lost her protection. Maybe it was because Sam was really fucking hot.

I touched him back. I bit into his neck, perhaps harder than I should have, uncaring if I left a mark. He cried out, and it sounded mostly like pleasure. I dropped my hand to his sharp hipbone and pulled him towards me. I traced along the waistband of his pants, feeling unfamiliar hair that was not off-putting. When my eyes fluttered open every now and then, I could see the clear outline of his arousal. It made me feel both turned on and very nervous.

Sam growled and grabbed my dick through my slacks. My whole body arched. “God Harry, for someone who’s never done this before, you’re doing a damn good job.”

“Thank you,” I managed to gasp. Sam began rubbing my cock up and down through my trousers, his grip firmer than I was used to (except from myself), and my hips moved against him. I moaned.

Sam smiled and began to unbutton my pants. I wasn’t really sure what came next – what we were going to do. But I was painfully hard at this point and way too aroused to stop him. My body was calling the shots now, and it really wanted some kind of release.

He freed my dick and began to stroke. Again, the different feel of his hand was unexpected, but it didn’t detract from the sensation. Waves of pleasure started washing through me; my head fell back and I moaned, thrusting into his grip. He leaned forward and seized my mouth with his, chewing on my lower lip, lapping at me with his tongue.

And then he moved from my mouth to my collarbone. My chest. My stomach, nibbling and licking.

I was nervous. Would I be expected to return the favour? Would it be so bad if I was? But I urged him on anyway, my hand in his hair, making somewhat desperate sounds at the movements of his mouth, lower and lower.

He looked up at my face for a moment from where his lips were fastened to my abs, and God, those blue eyes were something else. Then he pulled back and lowered his mouth to my cock.

The heat of his lips and tongue engulfed me, and I let out a moan that was not entirely intentional, one hand squeezing the muscle of his shoulder while the other clutched at his golden hair. His long fingers wrapped around me to work in time with his mouth, and it felt fucking incredible. He knew just how hard to suck, just what way to sweep his tongue, just when to take me in deep. It was the best blow-job I'd ever had. I wondered if it was due to his particular supernatural nature, or if maybe all guys were this good. I suppose having the same equipment was probably an advantage…

He lowered one hand to my balls and rolled them gently in time with his movements. “Aggh!” I said, sensation rolling through me with his touch. And then, just in case he'd misinterpreted the squawk, I quickly added, “ _Yes_.” His touch was exquisitely soft, and it added deliciously to the pressure building inside me.

I was moaning in earnest now as his head bobbed up and down, thrusting into his mouth, though trying to restrain myself. (Huh, I guess it turned out I wanted to be a gentleman even to other men **.** ) I was not going to last long. His mouth was too wet and soft and hot. Each movement was filling a well of almost unbearable pleasure, and it was going to overflow. “I'm gonna come,” I managed to gasp out in warning. I doubted Sam was the type who minded someone coming in his mouth, or that he had to worry about human diseases, but it was only polite to give him the option.

He didn’t take it. His grip on me tightened, and he sucked harder.

The pleasure flooded over, and my back arched. I gripped the couch behind me to keep from grabbing his head, but I couldn’t stop my hips from thrusting up at him. He moved with me, and I tried not to yell too loud as I spilled into his mouth. Ecstasy made my mind go white.

As I came down, his movements slowed with me, and he didn’t stop until my hips collapsed to the couch with an exhausted sigh. He leaned forward to kiss my stomach, gave my balls a final squeeze that made me jump, and sat up with a smile. “So,” he asked, only a hint of cockiness in his voice, “how was it?”

I made incoherent noises before I managed to say, “Good. That was… Fuck, you’re good at that.”

He grinned. “Thanks. To be honest, I've had a lot of practice.” He eyed me obliquely then. “How you doing on the whole…sexual confusion front?”

I snorted. “…I have no idea. Pretty sure you’re right about me being bi,” I said wryly. “I'll probably freak out about it later. But…I’ve had worse things to freak out about.”

Sam nodded. “I'm sure that’s true. Hard to be in our line of work without…making a few mistakes.” That look again. I had a definite theory now about the skeleton in his closet. I was thinking he had a _lot_ in common with Thomas. No wonder I'd been reminded of him.

He cleared his expression and smiled at me again. “Well, have your freak-out. I think it’s part of the process, for most people. Though _I_ never really had one.” He shrugged.

Then his eyes widened suddenly, “Uhh-“

The door opened, and Lara appeared. Her top half was bare, her bottom half in a white silk skirt to just past her knees. I was so thoroughly sated that for once my mind didn’t start waxing lyrical about her body. She froze in the doorway, her eyes widening by slow degrees.

I was still mostly naked. There was no mistaking what we'd been up to.

She entered the room very slowly and closed the door, her face a mask of icy fury, eyes silver. “ _You_ ,” she snarled at Sam, and hurled herself at him with inhuman speed.

“Whoa!” Sam said, jumping up, and Lara stopped dead four or five feet away from him, as if her limbs had been caught and held in place. She looked understandably shocked, and a small noise of alarm escaped her. “Well, guess I'd better be going,” Sam continued. “Really it’s been a while since I was at a rape party like it. Great job.” He stepped past Lara’s frozen form, then turned back to mouth ‘see you tomorrow’ at me. I could help but give him a wry smile in return.

Then he stepped forward, and just fucking disappeared. No veil, no Nevernever. Site-to-site teleportation. Even I didn’t see that every day. Hadn’t seen it since Marcone and Thorned Namshiel, in fact. I wondered again what the heck kind of creature I had agreed to help.

Lara stumbled forward suddenly, the hold on her released. She whirled with a growl.

“He's gone,” I said.

Lara turned back to me very slowly. “Who was that?” she asked through clenched teeth. “ _What_ was that?”

I started to do up my pants. “No idea,” I said honestly. “Interesting guy.”

Marble, icy disdain coated her features, but couldn’t mask her anger. “Clearly.”

I smiled guilelessly. I'd just hooked up with a male Outsider, and even if it hadn’t felt amazing, it almost would have been worth it for the look on Lara's face alone. I was no kine. Turnabout was fair play, my dearest fiancée.

**Author's Note:**

> Well I enjoyed that. I hope it was enjoyable even if you don't know 'Sam'? I'd originally intended to leave this as a one-shot, but I do have one or two more potential chapters I could add if anyone would like to read them.


End file.
